


in a crowd of thousands

by glowingbluesketches



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, F/M, Lord I'm Sorry, Sad with a Happy Ending, because it's a drabble, it's very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-17 07:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14183511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowingbluesketches/pseuds/glowingbluesketches
Summary: Dimitri stared at the battered, violet diary in his hands. The words on the mostly blank page made him blink; once, twice, before he finally broke.





	in a crowd of thousands

Dimitri didn't like the thought of people suddenly appearing at his door without informing him of the visit first, but that July morning saw Vlad and his wife Sophie at his door. His Parisian apartment was located only a few streets away from their very glamorous house, one made out of white stone with a sun dial in the front garden. Except for his apartment, it was the place he was usually found, hanging out with Vlad.

Today, however, they had came to him.

Once they were sat down on his very rundown sofa-he really should buy a new one-Vlad had spoke. "Dimitri."

That's when he realised something was _very, very_ wrong. He hadn't noticed the bundled up tissue in Sophie's hand until she began to sob again-the dried up tear tracks on her cheeks had went unnoticed-and Vlad's jaw clenched.

There was only one reason why they would come to his home, upset, the only thing that the three of them had in common: the violet diary in Vlad's hands.

"Vlad. How-" he stumbled forward, eyes still attached to that damn book. Vlad nearly jumped up when he fell to his knees, mouth opening and closing soundlessly like he was a fish craving water.

"Marie received it this morning, along with a few more boxes of belongings." he pushed his glasses up his nose with a shaky finger. "This was one of the things inside."

He couldn't stop from growling the next words; "They don't belong to her. They belong to-" he couldn't even say it.

"I know, my boy." his voice was soft, like he was speaking to a child rather then an eighteen year old man.

"Why?" his own voice cracked.

"I think you know the answer to that." Vlad replied. Sophie let out another sob, this time not even bothering to stifle it with her now wet tissue.

No. It couldn't be possible.

This was the twenty first century; no one would be so barbaric as to kill-

Alexei was only fifteen, and Anastasia-

"How?" he asked. Vlad could only stare at the man he had practically raised, who's voice had now gone dangerously quiet.

He didn't notice Vlad and Sophie glance at one another. "Execution."

God, the way he had said it made it seem like they had been criminals. Nicholas Romanov had been many things-a loving father, a terrible businessman of course, the man who had inherited Romanov Co. hadn't been trained as well as his father-but a criminal was not one of them.

His children were practically angels compared to many.

Kind Olga wanted to be a writer. The last time he had seen her she had been on the fifth draft of her first book, had hardly spent time talking to him, only throwing him a quick 'hello' and a 'how do you do?' before hurrying back to her study. He had only seen glimpses of her the previous weeks, but it had been the first time since starting the fifth draft that she had even talked to him.

Strict Tatiana had been interning with a fashion designer in Paris. She was the Romanov he saw quite often when he visited his adopted father in France, either visiting her grandmother or Sophie. Both had an obsession with fashion, so the two usually would go out shopping-for themselves or Tatiana's sisters in Russia-which Dimitri and Vlad were forced to join. The last time he had seen her was when she had dragged him over to a suit to try on, helping him tie his tie with low tutting.

Sweet Maria had wanted to be, simply, a housewife. She loved children and wanted to find a husband who would not only love her unconditionally, but would want as many children as she wanted. The last time he had seen her she had been getting dressed to go on a third date with her, hopefully, future spouse. She had hugged and kissed his cheek in greeting before running to the car waiting for her.

Mischievous Anastasia had wanted to be an actress, which wasn't shocking at all. The amount of times she had put on plays for the family and workers had been moderate successes because she was so good at it. Dimitri had been able to get out of them, thank god for that, but her pranks he couldn't escape. The last time he had seen her she had been throwing paper balls out of a window down onto him as he yelled.

Strong Alexei was to be his father's heir, the heir to Romanov Co. It was the only future he saw for himself that wouldn't put him in danger, the haemophiliac sufferer. Modern day technology and medicine was able to safe his life countless times, and would help him live longer then his twenty first birthday. He would have lived long enough to start his own family and have his own children. The last time he had seen him he was in the middle of sitting in a board meeting, watching his Papa so he can be ready when he would inherit the company. He had been walking past a window with Vlad when Alexei had thrown him a wave, which he had quickly returned.

He was happy to call them all friends, but unlike the three eldest Romanov children and their younger brother, he had been fascinated-and then in love-with Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova when he was seventeen.

She had been sixteen at the time, with him only a few months away from his eighteenth birthday. He had confessed his love to her-because at the age of seventeen, he had been a very confidant boy-but had hesitated throwing himself into a summer fling. When he would turn eighteen in September, they would have to go their separate ways, he would head to Paris for University and she would stay in Russia.

He went through with it anyway, and had the best three months of his life. When he had turned eighteen, he had said his goodbyes to the Romanov family-or the girls, considering he had seen Nicholas and Alexei at the business only an hour before-they had ended their summer fling with a hug goodbye. Until she had thrown paper balls out of the window at him.

The last glance he had of her would haunt him for years to come. Because her mouth was thrown open in a laugh, but tear stained cheeks told him a different story.

Movement brought him out of his thoughts.

Vlad held out the diary; the battered, violet diary with the gold initials _ON_ stitched onto the cover.

He knew why, the minute he had flickered through the diary of the oldest Romanov child, that he had given it to him instead of Anastasia's own.

Because in the familiar scrawl of the youngest Romanov daughter, on the last recorded page, were the words:

'Dima, I'm sorry.'

Dimitri stared at the battered, violet diary in his hands. The words on the mostly blank page made him blink; once, twice, before he finally broke.

_Nine Years Later_

Twenty-seven year old Dimitri Antonovich Sudayev weaved through the crowds of Paris, making his way to the small cafe across the street. His hands were shoved into his coat pockets, his collar tucked up to protect his neck from the wind.

In a split second, a truck carrying products to a superstore backfired.

A woman in front of him, a cotton coat wrapped around herself, screamed and staggered back, arms thrown over her head.

Dimitri's eyes widened as she stumbled into him, nearly knocking him backwards. "Hey, watch where you're-"

Blue eyes collided with brown.

His voice caught in his throat.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked. "Truly, I am!"

"It's okay." he replied so softly that even surprised himself. When was the last time he had actually spoke to someone in a non-sarcastic tone?

He smiled and held his hand. "Dimitri."

She eyed his hand carefully then a smile grew on her smile as she took it, her small, soft hands being engulfed in his large, rough ones.

"Anya."

**Author's Note:**

> I know in modern day AUs Maria is usually portrayed as the lesbian of the family, but I always thought Olga would be so although it isn't mentioned in this fic, Olga is indeed a lesbian in this AU.
> 
> Also, Anastasia's writing in Olga's diary wasn't a mistake; in real life, Maria and Anastasia burned their 1917-1918 diaries. Olga and Tatiana didn't.


End file.
